Shattered Dreams
by Rubisco
Summary: Life sucks. It sucks to be an assassin under the thumb of a crazed scientist. It sucks to be only 17 and have the weight of the world on your shoulders. And it totally sucks to have the God of Death fall in love with you. 2x1
1. Prologue

Author's Note: There isn't much to say. I've had this idea in my head for a long time, and 2x1 is just so…pretty. Sigh…

**Shattered Dreams**

**Prologue**

He smells like cinnamon, though he looks like he should smell only of jasmine.

No change in expression as he registers my presence. Of everything in that darkened room, his blue eyes are the brightest. It takes only half a second for him to swing, aim, and pull the trigger on that gun.

The bullet bounces off my head.

"Ouch!"

Another half a second for him to realize I'm not dead, and then I'm showered in bullets.

"Damn it!"

Really, I know I'm a god. And not just any god. I am _the_ god of death, you know, king of the gods? Anyway, I am absolutely immortal, as in you can't kill me even if you hacked me to pieces. But I have feelings damn it! It hurts when things bounce off you, at least it does when I decide to take the form of a human.

His glare seems puzzled. I resist the urge to melt into a puddle of god goo, or to tell him how cute he is.

Honestly, any other mortal would be freaking out by now.

Not a word. Well, it's not like he ever talks much anyway.

I take a step forward. It's probably dangerous to corner him. What am I talking about? It's safer to poke an angry, roaring lion in the nose than to corner Heero Yuy.

But I am a god. We've established that.

My eyes rake over his slender form. How long have I waited? I reach out, almost desperate to touch that skin.

He pulls out a knife.

Man have I picked a dangerous kitten to be my pet. This one's got claws and they are _sharp_.

He doesn't show it, but I know he is surprised at how fast I grabbed his wrists, at how my grip is much stronger than his.

The knife hits the ground as I pin him to the nearest wall. I pause for a minute, just looking.

Tousled brown hair falls into deep blue eyes. His face is perfectly proportioned, as if some artist had thought of creating the most beautiful creature when they painted him. His golden skin feels soft and smooth under my hands. His lips look even softer.

I lean closer towards him, almost kissing him.

"I am death," I whisper. "And I have come to take you away with me."

OOO

End of Prologue.

Author's Note: I hope I have invoked some interest. This is my first Gundam Wing story and I just want to see if it's good enough before I write anymore. It would be really great if I can get some feedback. Anyway, thank you everyone for reading this!

Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


	2. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimer: Don't own it. Wish I did, but…don't.

Author's Note: Look who's back from the dead! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! (Gets hit in the head by rotten tomato) (cries) I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to leave you all hanging for so long (Please find attached below a list of excuses). But I'm back now, and the story will continue. Grin Can't leave 2x1 alone now, can I? MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! (Thunder and lightening) Ahem. I would like to express my deep thanks for all of you who have reviewed. It would have been very difficult indeed to keep writing without your encouragement.

Rubsico's list of excuses for the very much delayed chapter:

1) I was stuck at a vacation spot all summer with no internet access and a big stack of anime

2) I got into a competitive and difficult university program which has made me more homicidal than suicidal (just kidding! Seriously! I swear I didn't try to kill anyone…)

3) I had to move far away from home to attend this university (sniff)

4) I became hopelessly addicted to J-pop (Love Satoshi!)

5) I was suffering from creative juice dehydration

…And if you are still reading this…O.O

Anyway, for those of you who are waiting for my digimon fics. I'm working on My Inferno! Honest I am!

**Shattered Dreams**

**Chapter 1**

What is it like being a god?

Many mortals would love to be a god. It is glorious. It is powerful. It is all knowing.

Well, I hate to break it to you. But being a god is _boring. _All that stuff just wears off after a couple thousand years, you know?

I have no memories of how or when I was born. For as long as there was life, there had been me, death. My realm is different from that of the mortals, and my companions, dead souls. I spent a few centuries making the perfect palace for myself, with the trees, the wind, the oceans. And then, I got bored.

The mortals are a lot of fun, you know?

Watching as they struggled, grew, survived despite their fragile nature and lack of intelligence, I was intrigued. For some eras I journeyed regularly into their world, just enough for them to guess of my existence, just enough for them to worship me and bring offerings for me.

Human food tastes good.

I watched people get born, watched them learn, love, fight. And when the fires of their lives had burnt into nothing, I swooped down to take them away.

And then I got sad.

They were like butterflies to me, beautiful, delicate, and so very tragic. Dead souls don't talk. I withdrew back into myself.

And they forgot me.

A long time I spent in my sadness, taking souls from afar, wanting to know their stories, but not wanting to know. They changed too quickly for me, made me love them only to lose them again and again. I gave up. Or so I told myself.

But I couldn't stay away.

Then, one stormy night in the dirty alleyways of the slums, I saw a bleeding little boy with deep blue eyes the color of the oceans and a pain greater than the sky.

I was lost then, and I have not yet found myself.

OOOOOO

"I am death," I whisper. "And I have come to take you away with me."

I am quite pleased with myself. After all, I've surprised him by showing up out of nowhere, made him empty all his bullets (which has honestly never happened before), swept him off his feet, and delivered what I consider the most romantic phrase ever.

No mortal has ever received such a phrase from me. When they die, they just die. They don't even get to _see_ me. So surely Heero is impressed. He is looking into my eyes. This is what I have been waiting for. This is the moment he falls utterly and completely in love with me. I smile as I finally move to kiss him.

The little bastard kicks me.

Hard.

And it is absolutely mortifying to admit that not only did his attack surprise me, but it also sent me sprawling backwards in the most ungodlike way possible.

I sit on the ground for a long time after he escapes, just blinking.

Somehow I did not imagine our first meeting to go quite like this.

I blink again as something very nasty occurs to me.

Was I…was I just…

_Rejected_?

OOOOOO

Heero Yuy was confused.

It happened whenever violet eyed strangers popped out of thin air, refused to die, and then claimed to be death.

There had to be a logical explanation for this. Of course, there was a logical explanation for everything. For example, he could be dreaming.

Heero pinched himself in one tan arm and winced.

Nope, not a dream.

Okay, minor setback, but there could be other possibilities. For example, he could be hallucinating.

Heero prodded himself in the stomach. Food poisoning? Unexpected illness? He tapped his forehead lightly. Concussion from falling on his head one time too many?

Puzzled, the 17 year old assassin rested his chin in one hand, looking very serious indeed as he perched on the window sill, one knee drawn up towards his chest.

The violet eyes had been very real, he decided. Very beautiful. The body of the other had been warm, and he had felt the weight of that long chestnut braid when he was pinned against the wall. He had felt threatened in a completely different way, and it had been difficult to breathe…

Mentally shrugging off the uncomfortable feelings, Heero jumped back down to the floor and unpacked his laptop.

Whatever happened had already happened. He had gotten away unharmed from whatever those violet eyes had been. His target was killed, his mission completed. If something was going to come out of the encounter, then he would deal with it when it comes.

For now, he had reports to write and weapons to clean.

OOOOOO

So my plan didn't go exactly the way I wanted. No big deal. I am a god you know.

And getting beat up by a mere mortal doesn't bother me at all. He wouldn't have gotten me if I was prepared you know. So it's no big deal.

No big deal.

For some unexplainable reason, I am really _really_ pissed off.

OOOOOO

Heero had just finished cleaning his gun when there was a pop and the same violet eyed boy appeared sitting on his desk. Legs crossed and face scrunched up in a serious scowl, the boy pointed an accusing finger at Heero and demanded in a stern voice, "apologize!"

Heero frowned in confusion. "Huh?"

"You kicked me earlier and it really hurt!"

Nodding to himself as if in understanding, Heero picked up his gun, took aim, and pulled the trigger.

The bullet bounced off the other's head.

"Ouch! Damn it! How many times have I got to tell you? Stop abusing my new body!"

Heero looked at the target, then at his gun, and at his target again. He let out a soft, puzzled, "hn."

"…Took me eight years to build this body. Eight bloody years! You could have shown some respect for it. I wouldn't have built it if I didn't want to kidnap…er…meet you! It's a very delicate instrument linking our worlds together, and you gotta stop shooting at it, understand?"

Heero took his gun apart again and cleaned it. "State your purpose."

"I told you. You are supposed to come with me."

He's being told what to do by an idiot. Heero glared. "Who are you? To what organization do you belong to?" He put the gun back together neatly and aimed it once again, "state your mission!"

There was an exasperated sigh. "I am the god of death, from the realm of death. I'm here to take you away with me."

He's being told what to do by a crazed idiot. Heero death glared. "State your mission or I shall proceed with interrogation."

"Now Hee-chan, I know that bastard J trained all the humanity out of you, I was watching for eight years while waiting for this body after all, but that's no reason to be mean to your new master."

Heero's eyebrow twitched. _Hee-chan? Master? Dr. J a bastard?_

_**Hee-chan?!**_

With an inhuman growl Heero launched himself at his newly identified enemy, only to be overpowered once more and trapped under that violet gaze.

"Can I kiss you?" Death whispered softly in his ear.

"NO!" Heero burst out, tearing himself out of the other's grasp, trembling and livid. No one had…no one had _ever_ dared.

"Another rejection, huh?" Death looked a little sad.

Heero bit furiously at his bottom lip. He didn't believe it, didn't _want_ to believe it, but all the evidence was against him. "Are you…are you really a god?"

Death disappeared for a second, then reappeared on his bed. The cheap motel mattress let out an ominous creak as he shifted. "Uh-huh."

Heero set his jaw. "I don't care how immortal you are. I'm not going anywhere. I have missions."

Death nodded as if in understanding. "Living mortals can only enter my realm if they are willing. I cannot force you."

Heero let out a tiny sigh of relief; perhaps things wouldn't get out of hand.

Death had a wicked, determined smirk on his face. "But you know, I'm not leaving until you agree to come with me."

Heero managed two seconds of calm before he punched a hole into the wall.

_Life. Really. Sucked._

OOOOOO

Author's Note: Tada! There you go! Took me long enough but it's done! Sigh Now if I could only say the same about my homework…(looks at gigantic pile of work on desk). Hee-chan! Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaave me!!!!!!

Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.


End file.
